


Show me a reason to take off Sundays.

by jxtxadore



Series: To Heal a person is to give a part of yourself. [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, Fluff, I almost cried during this, I feel bad from the main story, M/M, just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 13:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2349302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxtxadore/pseuds/jxtxadore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q always worked, everyday. Yet, after Meeting James, the agent decided to show Q just why he should stay home, at least one day of the week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show me a reason to take off Sundays.

**Author's Note:**

> Companion, side piece to my story, 'to try and heal someone is to give a part of yourself.' Just a bit of fluff between James and Q, before the story.

"James!" I couldnt' help yelling, when James ducked down and pulled my knees to his chest, his body pushing me down, over his shoulder. 

"Yes, Quintin?" He replied. I could hear his grin, and I hit his back, without any real force behind it. 

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" I moved my hand to fix mty glasses, trying to see where we were going. It wasn't something that I was familiar with, James bringing me from the lab to... Well, I didn't know. I was guessing his office, or the car. Either would work, I supposed. If only for a few minuets, however. I needed to get some work done. 

When he turned to the doors to leave MI6, I squirmed slightly, ignoring the sparks that it sent through me. 

"James, what are you doing?" I demanded, pressing my hands to his back, propping myself up enough to look at the back of his head. He warned me to get back down, or I'd hit my head, right before he walked through a door. He, however, ignored my question. 

All too soon, we were in his new car, a replacement of his Aston. Not nearly the same, however. Not even of the same maker. No, but it was still sleek, smooth, just as I thought of James. He opened the driver's side and pushed me through to the passenger's side, following and closing the door. His right hand braced himself on the seat, and the left was on the headrest. Without even trying, he had me pinned to the seat, and that was ignoring the fact my legs were still sprawled over his seat, and one of his knees was between my legs. 

"James...." I said, warningly. He only grinned, his eyes hungry. 

He was quick to feast himself on me, pressing down, our bodies connecting at only a few spots, his lips connected with mine, and I sighed into the kiss. My arms moved around his neck, feeling the worn cotton, and further yet, his warm skin. He hadn't shaved recently, and the little bit of abrasion was nice. My hands went to kneed his shoulders, slightly taunt thanks to the use of his hands and propping himself up. In comparison to my last use of his name, I half moaned his name as he moved his lips to my neck, softly sucking and nipping the skin. James had yet to say it, yet I knew that he loved me. I could feel it in the way he pressed against my body, the way he kissed my lips, the way he would whisper my name in his dreams. My nails lightly ran across his scalp, and my body pressed against his, maxmizing contact. Intimate, yet not sexual, not really. 

"Love you," I whispered, knowing my voice was soft, the authority was gone, replaced only by love. Affection. Joy. I knew that he could hear it, and i closed my eyes, pulling his lips back up to mine. A tender kiss, enough to tell him I did mean what I'd said, enough to sate myself of a need to prove it to him, enough. 

Enough of a kiss to cover up wounds that were raw and still tender, from anyone that had hurt us. I could feel my heart fill, my throat tighten, and I felt like I was going to burst. I could only feel love, as james moved his arms around me, his elbows supporting his weight, keeping me close in his arms. I whispered the two words again. 

"Promise you're not going to be going into work anymore on the weekends?"

"Only if you promise not to break my equipment, 007," I whispered in return, yet there was no real venom in the words, no harshness. Only love, and I was quick to press a kiss to the skin just under his ear. 

"Then Sundays, at least."

"Alright." I replied. "I'll stay with you on Sundays."

"Love you, Quintin." He murmured. 


End file.
